I was a Zion born
by Kaileikehe
Summary: Zion born children are vanishing from the city. Dozens of children are showing up in the matrix, waking up from lengthy comas on the same day. What's going on? Why is Zion being stripped of its children? And who will figure it all out?
1. Lost

D/C: I don't own the matrix blah blah blah, so Wachowski brothers, don't sue as me and every other matrix fan knows that you created this masterpiece of a movie and not me. :P I do own Eve and Axel, at least, the boy who I christened Axel without realizing the name was already used. Pooh. I'm not gonna change it now. I like the name. Soooooo, enjoy the story! And now, I must go bang my head against a wall, as I am utterly devoid of a witty comment to end this disclaimer. Bye!  
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"Eve! Axel! Come here!" A motherly, but stern voice rang out across the open air of Zion. Down at the dock level, where they weren't supposed to be, two small children froze.  
  
The little girl, formally known as Eve, appeared to be about six, the age where rules began to wear and tear in her eyes and adventure was certainly more interesting then sitting around. She had long black curls that went past her waste and her skin was a brilliant cappuccino hue with the complexion of any child her age.  
  
The boy was seven, but he had a lanky form that gave him the appearance of ten. He was pale for a Zion born, and his jet black hair did nothing to help the incessant teasing he received for looking so much like Neo, the man who had ended the war many years before he or Eve were born.  
  
Eve laughed delightedly at the fact that they had managed to escape their mother once again. Axel had been taken in by Eve's family after his parents abandoned him and disappeared somewhere on the surface, so, in some senses, the two were siblings, but they had never considered it that way. Axel chuckled as he watched Eve scramble over mounds of debris still left from the war. Her sparkling brown eyes were filled with mischievousness and intellect that was astounding for her age. She leapt smoothly over a pipe and beckoned for Axel to follow. His eyes darted cautiously around before he followed suit and disappeared into the shadows.

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"Eve!"  
  
"Axel!"  
  
A woman who looked like a blown up version of Eve, and a dark, bad man cried out over the railing outside their apartment. It was hopeless, but they kept screaming anyway.  
  
Eve and Axel had been missing for weeks now. They had disappeared without a trace. Nothing. And now, more were going missing. Dozens of children had already vanished, and at this rate, there would be no Zion born children left in the entire city by next month.  
  
Councilor Roland approached the grieving woman. It had been many years since he had put his ship in someone else's hands and accepted a councilor position, so he had softened up, if you could call it that. Roland still had the roughness of a man who had seen and done things he both regretted, and embraced. He placed a gnarled hand on the woman's shoulder and spoke reassuringly.  
  
"We will find them. I promise, Niobe."  
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_What... Where... Where am I?  
_  
A blurry face leaned over the boy's bed, murmuring softly. As the figure sharpened, he noticed that they were beaming down at him with unbelievable joy.  
  
"Doctor! Doctor! He's awake! Oh god, he's awake!" The figure, apparently a woman with short blonde hair, was quickly joined by a tall man with raven colored hair and a pale face. The woman gathered the boy up into her arms and ruffled her face in his hair, crying uncontrollably. "We thought you would never wake. Oh god, we thought we had lost you."  
  
The man reached out and patted the boy on the shoulder. With barely contained tears, he said. "I love you, Jason."  
  
Jason lay in his hospital bed, bewildered. His "parents" sat dozing in some chairs in a corner of the room. He had never met these people, much less had them for parents. But where had he been, then? 12 years of his life, gone. Jason hadn't even known he was twelve. How could he have been in a coma for 12 years? It was impossible, he knew it was. The doctors would have cut off life support after a few years, even if he wasn't brain dead. Yet, he couldn't remember _anything _before now. Except, for a name.  
  
Eve.


	2. Hate's a strong word

D/C-A/N: Alrighty, chappie 2! I don't own the matrix, and won't. I do own Jason/Axel, Eve/?, the parents, the teacher, Makani, and the gang of kids. Don't take the named ones and the parents, or I'll bite you. Enjoy! (I bet your wondering who Eve's gonna be. Heeheehee. Alright, gonna stop foreshadowing now =P)

* * *

"You're gonna love your room, Jason. We picked everything out that a boy your age would like. You'll just love it."  
  
The perky woman that Jason had been told was his mother would not **shut up**. Her voice drilled into the side of Jason's head like a power tool, and he seriously wanted to flick something into her mouth to stop her from speaking.  
  
Jason stared moodily out the window, realizing they would live in the city. He wondered if they would force him to go to school, or keep him home for fear of losing him again. He hated the brick monstrosities of the schools they passed by. Well, right now, he hated pretty much everything.  
  
"We bought you a bike, a bright red one, and tons of Legos. We always knew you would love Legos, you always clutched them in your fist when the doctors gave them to you."  
  
"Mom—"Ugh, the word tasted nasty and unfamiliar in his mouth. "Can you please shut it?"  
  
Silence. Jason looked away from the window and saw his mother frozen in shock. His father glanced back and squeezed her hand as though to say, "It'll be ok. He just needs time to adjust."  
  
"Can you turn that on?" Jason pointed at the radio, knowing fully well that they would.  
  
His father reached out and calmly pressed random buttons. A guitar riff erupted from the speakers and Jason gazed back out the window.  
  
The car slowly pulled into a neighborhood outside the city. Quaint houses passed by and they pulled into one.  
  
"What city is that?" Jason asked.  
  
"New York." His father replied gruffly.  
  
Jason climbed out of the car and ripped his hospital band from his wrist. He scuffed his shoes along the driveway, watching as it began to erode his brand new sneakers.  
  
"Come in, honey." His mother said hurtfully. For a moment, Jason flooded with guilt. He should be nice, considering these people were taking him in. He still didn't trust them, though.  
  
"Coming."

* * *

Jason dropped onto his Spiderman covered bed. A gleaming, hi-tech computer sat on a brand spanking new desk. He crossed the room and turned it on, sitting himself on the comfy chair.  
  
It booted up in a matter of seconds, showing a bland desktop. Jason quickly changed it to Spiderman. He liked the guy. A hero, young, but he still fought for what's right. For the safety of people he didn't even know. Jason wondered if he ever might see him. After all, they did live right by New York.  
  
A small icon popped up in the corner of the screen. Jason pressed it and a web page opened up.  
  
It was an article. It read:  
  
**_Mysterious Coma ends_**

_BY MICHEAL GOBECK  
  
On May 4th, the mysterious coma that had spread across the globe ended with a jolt.  
  
For 5 years, nearly 17,000 children ages ranging from as young as 4 to as old as 16 had fallen into a beta coma, unresponsive aside from energetic brain waves.  
  
The cause to the coma was unknown and remains so today. The only thing the infected children had in common was they had all appeared out of the woodwork the day they fell into the coma. Every single child was homeless. Approximately 22% were children that had been missing for varying periods of time and were returned to their rightful homes.  
  
The rest of the children were immediately adopted, with strict guidelines to accept the children as though they were their biological. This phenomenon remains unsolved, and has been shunted aside the government as "an image of all the needy children stranded across the world". Most responsible for the caretaking of the children were unavailable for comment.  
  
One gentleman wrote in about his recently adopted child.  
  
My child, who we have named Tessa, showed an outstanding  
knowledge of technology and math (however, she had an  
average level of reading and writing) within our household.  
Where ever these kids grew up...they were not deprived of...  
education.  
I can only hope... that she accepts  
us, because we could never give  
her... what she already has.  
  
Many parents, bio or not, sent in the same comment. This is truly a wonder for the ages.  
_  
Jason shut down the window, sitting back into his chair. So that's what had happened. It explained a lot, but there were a few loopholes. At least now, he was confident he had been adopted. He knew that he didn't belong here. But, there was he could do to change that. He would go along with it for now.  
  
"Jason, honey! Dinner!"  
  
"Coming!"

* * *

"Jason! Pay attention young man!"  
  
Jason jumped, banging his knees against his desk. The class laughed jeeringly at him.  
  
"What ma'am?"  
  
"What is the answer to the problem I gave you?"  
  
Jason made a face. "69."  
  
The bird-like teacher leered at him icily before returning to the front of the classroom. Jason loathed her with all his heart and soul. He despised her, and he despised the class around him. They were so mindless, never questioning anything. Although, Jason contributed that little predicament to the teachers at this strict school. Curiosity was the devil to them, and he must be suppressed.  
  
"Dude, why are you even in this grade? You're practically a genius." A boy next to him mumbled.  
  
"I'm not." Jason looked at the boy.  
  
He had shaggy sun bleached brown hair that he regularly swept from his eyes. His eyes were like emerald jewels, they were such a vibrant green. Stout, brown skinned limbs were taught with thick muscles, suggesting he did a sport of some type.  
  
The boy cocked his head, watching Jason intently. "You're name's Jason, right?"  
  
"Yeah. What's yours?"  
  
"Makani. I'm from Hawaii."  
  
"That's cool."  
  
"Mahalo. Hey, you want to sit with me at lunch?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Jason!" The teacher screeched. "Pay attention!" 

* * *

"Loser!"  
  
"Freak!"  
  
"Shithead!"  
  
"Hey, that's sweet."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Crap stick."  
  
"You suck."  
  
"Just keep kicking him."  
  
Jason whimpered as he tried to curl into a ball. He was surrounded by several different boys from his class. They had caught him as he was leaving the building and had pushed him down the stairs, beating him viciously.  
  
"S-stop!" He cried. A shoe connected solidly with his mouth and snapped his neck back. Blood spilled from his lips as another shoe kicked him in the gut.  
  
"Pick him up." The biggest of the group ordered.  
  
Jason struggled as his arms were wrenched from under him. He was thrown against a tree by no less than six boys.  
  
"I said, STOP!" Jason roared, breaking free from the filthy hands holding him. He swung his arm out and a nose cracked. He kicked at waist level and sent a boy gasping for air, while another caught his wrist and bent it back.  
  
Jason smiled weakly and swung around, striking the boy with his fist in the eye. A shriek from a bobble of ribboned fill hair erupted from the top of the stairs, and the gang scattered, leaving Jason alone in the clearing. And not so long after that, Jason was gone as well. Only the vibrant firy colors of the fall leaves were left, drifting softly to the ground one by one. 

* * *

"Jason! Oh, honey, are you ok?!? What did they do to you?!? My poor baby, poor poor baby!" Jason's mom was screeching at a decibel not meant for human ears to anyone in particular. Jason was fine, and he wanted to tell her that, but she wouldn't listen, because she couldn't see past the bruises and cuts that covered him, couldn't see that it had hurt, but the pain was gone, washed away.  
  
"Mom, I'm fine, mom. Mom, I wanna go upstairs. I swear, I'm alright."  
  
His dad watched him wearily, setting his newspaper aside for later. Jason had walked home, having missed the bus, and showed up at home an hour later than he was supposed to. Jason could sense their worry and anger, but it evaporated when they saw the blood and the black eye coming on. He looked away, wishing he was upstairs on his bed, listening to Linkin Park and Dashboard Confessional on the expensive iPod his parents had purchased for him.  
  
"By the way, we've got new neighbors." His father said, changing the subject. "They've got a little girl named Tessa. She's only a year younger then you."  
  
Jason sighed with relief. "Really?"  
  
"Yep. Very smart. Quite a beauty, too." His father grinned and winked so only Jason could see. He understood how Jason was feeling right now.  
  
"Daaaaaaad." Inside, Jason smiled. He felt like he belonged here. He liked having someone to watch over him, protect him, laugh with him. Maybe it was ok to accept these people as his parents. They loved him dearly, and that wasn't such a bad thing after all. 

* * *

Callouts!  
  
**Calliope-Elven-Agent**: I like cliffhangers. They leave you hanging like off a cliff! =P  
  
**LiMiYa**: Uh, sorry I didn't listen. But here it is, now!  
  
**SapphireNight**: Thanks! I didn't like writing stories for the looongest time. Too tedious, I said. I would write poems. But this is fun! 


	3. A Treacherous Man

A/N-D/C: The matrix is not mine. You should know this by now.

* * *

The dark, depressing surface of earth was not a good place for humans to be. And yet, here he was.

It really was amazing, after all, he was alive, he was aware, and he was having his revenge on Zion. This is what you get for murdering my brother, Zion. This is what you get.

However, at the moment, he wasn't thinking of revenge, he was cowering in front of a cold, calculating machine who, had it been able to feel, would be very, very angry.

"You placed them together." Said the machine, his voice toneless and metallic from a mechanical diaphragm.

"Well, yes."

"Why?"

He froze, cringing at the inquiry.

"Why, Mark?"

Mark shuddered with disgust at his name. Such a common, filthy coppertop name that his parents had given him out of longing for a lost son who later showed up with an inane, but eroded belief and the name Cypher. It reminded him of everything he hated about the matrix, and it irked him that the crew of the Nebuchadnezzar had refused to change it, only dropped him off at Zion and sped off to find the One.

"I..."

"What was it that compelled you to risk the success of this entire operation?"

"Well, you see," Mark grinned meekly and laughed. "She was such a nice girl." He did have a shred of decency, but it was buried under years of hurt, only peeking out when it saw fit.

"You felt compassion for this child?" The machine leaned forward, focusing on the trembling Mark.

"Yes. Yes I did." Mark muttered curtly, his eyes downcast. "She spoke of her brother while I was gathering them. She said her brother wasn't really her brother, but she loved him so. She was distressed that I had placed him and the other boys in another part of the city. So, I..."

"Placed her near him."

"Yes. And I realize now that it was a mistake."

The machine eyed him blearily. It lifted one, dagger-like tentacle and slowly weaved it about Mark.

"We will not do anything now. It is too late. I would hope they do not realize the truth, for your sake."

Mark nodded uneasily and began to backpedal away from the machine and down the corridor. As soon as he was sure he was far enough that the machine didn't see him, he broke off into a run. You wouldn't stay alive here if you didn't know when to split.

* * *

**Mwuha! Short chappie! Much thanks to Princess of Dalidon for inspiring me for this part. She made a very good point, and I decided to write up a reason. :)**


End file.
